


Something He Had Once Thought Could Never Happen

by Indigo55



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Gen, New Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 17:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13217820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigo55/pseuds/Indigo55
Summary: Newt experiences one of his life's most profound moments





	Something He Had Once Thought Could Never Happen

An early spring sun was creeping up on the tops of the line of elders that demarcated the property the (presently) smallish, neat cottage sat upon. Reddish-gold rays flicked thru the new, fresh leaves and began warming the air; the dew that glinted everywhere, on blades of grass and the peeking buds of the just-blooming flutterby bush to one side of the porch steps was evaporating in its silent, measured way. The sky was dawning clear and blue, auguring a perfect day in early May in the English countryside in Dorset.

The man sat in a large wooden rocker, a family heirloom, on the cottage back porch. He had witnessed many, many sunrises, and he had done so in locales scattered all over the globe. Typically his attention had been focused on something other than the dawn; but he had always loved to appreciate the world's natural beauty whenever and however it chose to reveal itself to him.

What he was appreciating now, sitting in the rocking chair on the porch of his home, was just such an instance of nature's genius…or, as he was really thinking, of nature's own essence as ineffable magic. Not alone in the rocker, he was holding another being, and thinking that being was the most inexpressively splendid, majestic, and most exalted evidence of the glorious mystery of life and living he had ever encountered…the finest being he had ever, ever known.

In other words, he was cradling his first child, newborn within the past hour, in his arms. And he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

In his lengthy career he had helped bring so many creatures into this world. Each time, he had felt an amazement, a moment of reverence and joy, to meet yet another about to begin their travels on this Earth. And on the poignant occasions when that beginning was fated to become an ending very soon, he was not ashamed that he had wept. He was the wonderful combination of a keen, ordered, dispassionate, and curious mind, summed up nicely by the term “scientific”, and a heart capable of such gentleness and compassion that by force of habit he never differentiated between the importance of his friends and acquaintances…be they human or not.

But _this_ creature…and the loved ones who had helped in making this one possible (who weren’t all human, by the way) …there were worlds, and worlds within them, and he now possessed an inner world in which this tiny human shared some very particular real estate in his generously-sized heart – with just one other.

The one who had _really_ made this possible…

Everything had gone swimmingly, he knew, and the midwife had completely agreed. She had been absolutely great; when the final moments came, she had gestured to the bed and said, with a sparkle in her eye, “Would you like to do the honors? I understand you’re quite experienced. I’ll be your back-up, hm?” So it was that he had received his own child into his own large, callused hands, straight from the womb. Surrounded by cries, tears, laughter, and cheers, he placed the newborn on the new mother’s stomach, and with a little help from the midwife, cut the cord (for some reason his hands had started to shake _after_ the fact). Then there had been hugs, kisses, and wet eyes all around.

It wasn’t like all the other midwifing he’d done AT ALL.

In all the celebratory noise, he discerned a high-pitched flurry of notes that could be caused by only one creature: sure enough, there, perched on the back of a corner chair and staying well out of the way, Pickett was waving his arms in happy congratulations. He’d meant to leave Pick in the suitcase, but when things started to happen, it must have slipped his mind. Yet, watching his bowtruckle friend plainly transported by joy in the birth, he realized he was very glad that Pickett was there. Pick was as dear a friend as he’d ever had. He should be included in the milestones of his life. As should – then his second consideration was answered as Dougal winked into sight, standing beside the chair, smiled at him with those immense, wise old eyes, and vanished all in a second. Now, how the demiguise had gotten out of the case was something he would have to find out…eventually. 

The sun was cresting the elders and beams were reaching the porch. Abruptly he felt a thread of disquiet worming its way thru his chest. In his experience, if a birth was going to have a doomed outcome for either babe or mother, it was evident something was wrong at the start. But not _always._

Then he recalled the midwife’s bracing words. The new mother had shed tears of relief and joy, marveled at their new charge, and counted fingers and toes while he sat bedside and looked on; the midwife performed various tests and then pronounced their baby, in the voice of authority, “A perfect example of a healthy newborn.” Then she had checked over the mother in much the same way, and stated as fact, “You are in excellent condition, my dear. I’ll wager you could use some sleep, though. But first,” she said briskly, “I want you to try nursing, if you’re going to breastfeed.”

Looking down on the minuscule creature in her arms, they saw the small one was, if in a hapless, clumsy way, trying to find something on her chest, with both hands and mouth.

“A good appetite, already!” the new mother said with pride.

“Most certainly,” the midwife smiled, “so let’s see what we can do to help, shall we?”

In a trice, the new mother had her nightshirt open and the newborn proved that their mother’s breasts had been expanding for all the past months for a very good reason. The feeding went very well. Another obstacle they had hurdled.

“Best sleep now, dearie,” the midwife commanded as the new mother’s sister lifted the little one out of her arms, not without some resistance. “It’s recommended to feed every two hours at the outset, until you catch on to their rhythm.”

Then, quite unexpectedly, she swung on him. “The same for you. You did a fine job. Most men don’t seem to have the requisite feeling for this work, but I’ve met a few, and you are most likely the best I’ve ever seen. But,” she paused to take a breath, and craned her neck to look him in the eye, as he towered over her, “you are quite knackered, it’s obvious to anyone who has eyes to see. Sleep! As soon as possible. For all of you!”

His sister-in-law took over then, seeing the midwife out, and moving the long-prepared bassinet, along with a changing table, and all the accouterments they would need for parental life, where they needed to be. He returned to the bed and took his wife into his arms, trying by squeeze and touch and caress to convey to her all she was to him, how grateful he was to her to have gone down this path with him; she smiled a weary but deeply enamored smile into his eyes and they kissed.

As her eyes slid closed, he’d straightened – and felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. He’d turned to see his sister-in-law standing there, her bright smile somehow brighter than he’d ever seen it, and behind her, her husband, looking rumpled, teary and just as happy as his wife. He always cried at glad events.

“You sent the owl, right?”

“Erm – yes, yes of course,” he replied.

“Then there’s not much time left. You have to get some sleep, you’ll be playing host in a few hours. They’ll be descending on this place like nothing doing.” She extended to him what was in her arms. “I thought you’d want time by yourselves, before it all starts.”

She was holding his child, bundled against the cool spring morning just dawning.

Just as the new father was delighting in the slightly reddish tinge to the down on the child’s head, the little one coughed sleepily. It sounded like a mouse sneezing. Hastily he arranged the layers of blankets around the child to be more swaddling, which was really not possible. He fretted that it was too cold out here. Maybe a warming charm – but the newborn had slipped away into sleep before he could do anything. _So tired, aren’t you?_ he thought. _Hard work being born, isn’t it?_

 _Just a few more minutes,_ he asked the child silently, _just a few more minutes with me. Just with me._

And that is how his brother-in-law found them a bit later…both asleep, with the little one firmly, safely held in Father’s arms…the first of many, many times.


End file.
